Uncle Joey
by Smudgie
Summary: A relative is out to get Marty's family using the time machine. A sequel of sorts to 'Eternal Halloween'. WARNING rating has gone up.
1. Chapter 1

**Written for the December backtothefanfic challenge.**

It's never a good day when you're stopped by a guy in a ski mask.

It hadn't been a good day to start with, anyway. Strickland had given him another tardy slip, which wasn't in itself so bad, but the ten-minute lecture on slackers he'd had to endure sure was; also, he and Jennifer had been getting on each other's nerves lately, and the school day had ended with the two of them sniping at each other and parting in mutual silence.

Worst of all, he'd stopped by Doc's house after school and the two of them had somehow had a row. They'd been in the lab outside Doc's house; Doc had been taking something apart on a workbench and Marty, bored, was flipping through a newspaper he'd found lying around. There was silence between them, until Doc spoke.

'Marty, can I talk to you?'

Marty frowned and looked up from the newspaper. 'Well, I'm right here, Doc.'

The scientist frowned, seeming to search for the words he wanted to say. 'I'm right here too, but _you_ aren't talking to _me_.'

Marty blinked, puzzled. What was Doc going on about now? He dropped his eyes to the newspaper again. 'What do you want me to say? I don't have anything to talk about.'

'You used to.' Doc's voice was quiet. 'It didn't matter whether you had anything to say or not. We had conversations.'

'Doc.' Marty's voice was low and steely; he didn't look up at Doc, but his hands were clenched around the edge of the paper. 'Could you please tell me what the hell you're talking about?'

He wasn't given an answer. 'You hardly ever look at me anymore, either. Not since…'

Marty now dragged his gaze upwards to rest on his friend's face. 'Since _when_?'

'Since Halloween.'

Suddenly furious, Marty leaped to his feet, the newspaper sliding to the ground. As well as being angry, he was scared. Terrified. His heart began to race. _Please, Doc, don't talk about that world. Please don't talk about that awful alternate you. Please, Doc…_

'What the hell are you talking about, Doc?' Marty strove to keephis voice steady, but despite his attempts it quivered and shook.

'You _know_, Marty. Since we met the alternate Emmett Brown at Halloween you keep to yourself; you still come over here but you just sit in that chair and don't say anything to me or look at me. And it's _just_ me. I've heard you talking to the boys and occasionally Clara when you don't think I'm around. You don't talk to your family either – '

'How do _you _know?'

'Your mother rang me a few days ago. She's been worried about you, Marty. You've been like this ever since Halloween – '

'Yeah, you _said_,' snapped Marty. 'So? What's your problem, Doc?'

Doc was beginning to look a little annoyed himself. 'Marty, all I want is for you to talk to me – not attack me.'

There was silence between them for several moments.

Finally Doc said, in a very soft voice, 'It's the alternate Emmett Brown that's been bothering you, isn't it? Look, I know you were a little shaken up by that experience, but it's been three months, Marty.'

'No, it's not that guy,' Marty said angrily. 'You always think you know everything, don't ya?'

'Marty, you don't have to get so defensive. I just want to talk to you.'

'You've talked enough.'

'Please, Marty, you're not helping anyone with this attitude - least of all yourself. All I want to do is help you.'

'Well I don't need help, OK? And I got better things to do than hang around here and listen to you – you – you thinking you got it all worked out! You don't need to act like a goddamn phsyciatrist or something. I'm going, Doc. I'll see you around.' Before his friend could say anything Marty was slamming the door behind him.

Now, as he made his way home, his anger had gone, replaced by unhappiness and confusion. Things were tense between him and Doc; things were tense between him and Jennifer; things were tense between him and his family. What was wrong with him? It wasn't because of his experience with the other Doc – _mad hungry eyes, no don't think about it don't think about it_ – like Doc assumed. Marty could feel himself growing hot with rage again just remembering the scientist's words. _'You've been like this ever since Halloween.'_ So it was true he had been a little on edge for the past few months, but he was just - tired, that's all. He was especially burnt out by the past week. At least it was Friday – all he wanted to do was go home, put his feet up and watch TV, and not have to think about school, homework, or – if truth be told – Doc and Jennifer. 

If he ever _got _home. His truck was in for repairs so he was skateboarding home, and no handy cars were around to catch hold of. As if he wasn't exhausted enough.

Now there was this guy in the creepy-looking ski mask who had just stepped into his path and caught hold of his arm. Marty lost balance and would have fallen if he hadn't been held up by Ski Mask. The skateboard rolled away.

'Hey, watch it!' he said, annoyed. Normally he wouldn't have been so aggravated by the incident, but after everything else…

'Oh, I'm _so _sorry,' said the man, in an amused tone; but he didn't let go of Marty's arm.

His voice was familiar. Marty frowned. Where had he heard it before? And why wouldn't this guy let go of him? He tried to twist away, but the stranger gripped him more tightly.

Marty froze at this movement, suddenly uneasy. 'Could you let go of me now?'

The stranger laughed. The only part of him that Marty could see was his eyes, glinting ice blue through the gap in the ski mask. 'Don't you recognise me, Marty?'

Marty squinted at him uncertainly.

'It's me, your Uncle Joey!'

'Uncle – Uncle _Joey_?' Surprise and relief flooded through Marty, and he laughed out loud. 'Jesus Christ, you gave me a fright! Yeah, you got released a while back, right? How come you haven't been to see us? And what's with the mask?'

'Well, I don't really want anyone to recognise me,' said Uncle Joey. 'What would they say if they saw Lorraine Baines' little brother kidnapping her youngest son?' With those words he pulled a gun from his pocket and pressed it to Marty's ribs.


	2. Chapter 2

They were sitting in the front of a van with tinted windows parked a little way down the street. Once inside, Uncle Joey had taken off the ski mask. He looked a little older; his hair was streaked with grey and he was more lined around the eyes. Other than that, he was exactly as Marty remembered him from around two years ago. But there was one slight change – he was now aiming a gun straight at Marty.

The teenager's mind was whirling as he tried to figure out how exactly he'd ended up in this position. He was also terrified, although trying hard not to show it; he pushed his hands deep into his pockets to hide the fact that they were trembling. All of his attention was focused on the gun. The gun. He'd faced guns before – Biff in the alternate 1985, Buford in the Old West – and he hadn't been as half afraid then as he was now. Those times had been different. There hadn't been a moment to stop and think about what the guns could do to him. But now, in his own world and his own time, there was nothing to stop him from imagining the gun pointed at him blowing a hole in his body…

He was going to be sick. Sweat prickled on his forehead as he leaned forward in his seat and held his breath until the nausea passed. Twisting his head sideward, he felt a surge of shame and fury at the look of amusement on his uncle's face.

'Why the hell are you doing this?' Marty managed to say, sitting up again and trying to ignore the gun.

Uncle Joey shrugged. 'Do you know, I'm not quite sure of the reason myself. Maybe it's got something to do with the fact that I've spent the past five years in prison?'

'Right.' Marty closed his eyes briefly and tried to concentrate on the conversation instead of the gun. 'So why are you pointing that – that gun at me?'

Uncle Joey didn't seem to hear him. 'Five years,' he said thoughtfully. 'The longest five years of my life. The loneliest too. Your mother called me a lot, did you know that? Almost constantly. Not to see how I was, of course – but to rub it in my face how successful and happy she was and especially how successful her dear George was. I've always hated my sister, but over the past few years I've come to _despise _her. I'm going have revenge on her, Marty McFly – with your help.'

Marty couldn't believe what he was hearing. Before he went into jail – something to do with a robbery, his mother never talked about it much – Uncle Joey had been congenial and kind to his nephews and niece, he had always chatted at length with George and Lorraine…

'They don't hate you,' he said.

'But _I_ hate _them_!' Uncle Joey hissed, his face suddenly transformed into something twisted and bitter. 'And I hate you too, and your brother and sister. I'm going to have revenge on all of you – with the help of your time machine.'

Marty became cold all over. Time seemed to be slowing, flowing past like treacle…He had heard wrong. Surely he must have heard wrong. 'W-what?'

'You heard me.' Uncle Joey smiled, a smile of immeasurable self-satisfaction. 'I know about the time machine, Marty. I don't know how it works or what it looks like – only that you've used it, as well as that crazy Doctor Brown. I'm guessing he invented it, am I right?'

Marty couldn't speak. _Oh God, this can't be happening…how does he know? How the hell did he find out?_

'How –?'

'Coincidence really,' his uncle said airily. 'An old newspaper from 1955 with a photo of a kid very like you playing guitar at a dance…when I came across that paper years ago I recognised you immediately, but it was put out of my mind after I was arrested. Then, several months ago, there was a feature in the newspaper about when Hill Valley was established, and who should I see in a picture but that mad old scientist with a lovely lady?'

Marty said nothing, struggled to remain expressionless, but his heart was pounding. He knew it was hopeless to try and convince Uncle Joey that he was mistaken. Besides, the man was mad. There was that gleam in his eyes…

'Well, of course I wondered what Doc Brown was doing back in the 1800s, so I decided to do a little research. It didn't take long for me to find a picture of the two of you back in – what was it, 1885? And as if I didn't need enough evidence, I saw the doctor and the woman from the picture walking around town only yesterday. So.'

Uncle Joey smiled at Marty. 'Doctor Brown has found a way to make time travel possible, Marty McFly, and you are going to help me take advantage of that.'

'Yeah right!' The words had flown out of his mouth before he could stop them. 'You think I'd help you? Forget it – '

'You _will_ help me, Marty,' Uncle Joey said, raising his voice a little, 'or I will kill someone close to you…or perhaps not close to you. Is there really a difference? Now. Where is the time machine? Does Doctor Brown have it?'

Marty stared at him and licked his suddenly very dry lips. There was no mercy in his uncle's eyes. None.

He nodded.

'Then let's go get it, shall we?'


	3. Chapter 3

'Emmett, dear?'

Startled at the voice breaking his long reverie, Doc looked up, blinking. 'Yes?'

Clara smiled at him sympathetically. 'You've been sitting in that armchair for half an hour now, staring into space, and you haven't said a word. What's wrong?'

Doc sighed and looked away again. 'Well…it's Marty.' When Clara didn't speak, waiting for him to go on, he said, 'We argued today…I asked him why he'd been so quiet lately, and if it was about the Halloween incident a few months ago. He was angry at me for bringing the subject up.'

Clara nodded; Doc had told her all about the events several months ago.

'I must admit, I pressed him about it a little – but I certainly wasn't expecting him to blow up in my face.' Doc shook his head. 'Which confirms that it is indeed that experience that's bothering him. The question is, now what?'

He lapsed into silence again. Clara leaned across to him and rubbed his arm. 'Has he spoken about it since at all?'

'Not once. I haven't either, though…' Doc thought that what was happening with Marty was partly his fault. After they'd arrived back from that awful alternate world, Doc had barely mentioned it afterwards, and when he did Marty shut up like a clam. _I should have noticed that_, Doc thought. And he should have tried to make Marty talk about it sooner rather than later.

'He doesn't look at me,' he said.

Clara frowned; then her brow cleared. 'He thinks of the you in that world.'

'Yes.' Doc grimaced and rubbed his forehead. 'Unfortunately, there isn't a lot I can do about that.'

'But, Emmett, you're not taking that alternate version of you as hard as he is. Unless you are…and you're not telling me?' Clara's eyes searched him worriedly.

Doc smiled at her reassuringly and squeezed her hand. 'No, no. I haven't been dwelling on it. It was certainly unpleasant, but…well, I suppose you have to accept that seeing these kinds of things go along with time travel. Marty, though…he took it a lot worse. Not because he was shocked to see how my alternate self had turned out, but because…' Doc looked at his wife and hesitated, unsure how to explain. 'Rather because of what my alternate self was going to do to him.' He hurried on, 'And of course what happened to his family and eventually himself – all killed.' He mused on this for a moment. 'I suppose it's not surprising, then, that he's a little traumatised.'

'Not at all,' Clara agreed. 'I think you should try talking to him again, Emmett. He's your friend, and he trusts you.'

Doc nodded, knowing this was the right thing to do; he now felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. 'I'll call him tomorrow, and – '

He was interrupted by Jules suddenly running into the kitchen; his cheeks were flushed and his eyes were wide and scared. 'Father, Verne and I were playing near the lab, and we heard a noise – '

'There was a massive bang,' Verne piped up from behind him.

' – we think someone's broken into it.'

'Oh, my – ' Clara's hand drifted to her mouth.

Doc was on his feet in an instant, and was quick to reassure her. 'Don't worry, I'm sure it's probably nothing.' He was hiding his own concern. The time machine was in the lab… He looked at his sons and wife. 'Stay here, I'll check it out.'

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In the silence that had followed the bang after Uncle Joey shot the lock off the lab door, they heard muffled gasps and a scuffle, then the sound of running feet. Uncle Joey peered around the corner of the building.

'Two kids,' he remarked. 'Too far away for me to shoot…never mind.'

'You – you wouldn't!' Marty whirled around to face his uncle, horrified.

'Of course I would. Now get moving.'

Marty remained frozen where he was. _If he had shot Jules and Verne…_ It didn't bear thinking about.

'You bastard –,' he bit out.

'Marty, I'll remind you that those children have most likely gone to fetch their father, and if he shows the slightest indication of stopping us I won't hesitate to blow his brains out. It's up to you as to whether you get a move on or not.'

Marty clenched his fists so hard that pain flared up in his palm where his nails were digging into them. He had never felt this sensation before – not even when facing Biff, any version – even the one in the alternate 1985.

Hatred. Pure hatred. How he would love to snatch that gun from his uncle and shoot him again and again –

He had to focus. He had to make sure Doc stayed alive at whatever cost, and if it meant stealing the time machine…well then.

Taking a deep breath, he entered the lab. Evening was falling and it was dark inside; not that much light ever filtered through the grimy windows anyway. The DeLorean sat sleek and shining in the middle of the room.

Uncle Joey's eyes were wide. 'That's it?' he whispered, almost reverently.

Marty nodded, not trusting himself to speak. _Oh God, this is bad. This is very, very bad…_He desperately wanted Doc to come and rescue him, sort things out, he'd know what to do; but Doc could be killed. He couldn't put Doc's life at risk. Marty had to help himself, but how?

He had a horrible sensation of events beginning to spiral out of his control and he was powerless to stop it, and could only help move them along out of fear for his friend's life…

Uncle Joey ran a hand along the time machine's exterior. 'It's _perfect_,' he breathed.

They heard a door slam from the direction of the house. Blinking, interrupted from his trance, Uncle Joey crossed quickly to a window. 'The crazy scientist is coming,' he said. 'I guess I don't have any choice but to kill him.'

'_No!'_ Marty made no attempt to disguise the raw terror in his voice. 'No, please! Don't – don't shoot him. I'll do anything you want…just leave him alone. Please.'

Uncle Joey surveyed him sharply for a split second; then he crossed the room and, reaching into a pocket, withdrew a second gun and pressed it into Marty's hand.

'If you'll do anything to keep your pal alive, threaten him with that,' he said over his shoulder as he slipped into a shadow at the back of the room. 'Just remember that I'll be hiding back here and I'm not in the mood to be delayed. I'll shoot him if he doesn't do what you say. Oh, and tell him to leave the building – I don't want to be seen.'

He fell silent.

Marty stared at the gun, weighing it in his hand, his finger curling instinctively around the trigger. He'd had one before, in the Old West. Right now he would do anything to be back there facing Buford Tannen. Threaten Doc? With a gun? Impossible.

But it wasn't impossible. And he would do it if he had to.

He spotted the DeLorean's keys glinting on the workbench and quickly snatched them up. The sooner they got away from here, the sooner they got away from Doc and the threat to his life.

Too late. A shadow was standing in the doorway, and moved forward.

'_Marty?' _Doc's tone was of utter disbelief. 'Marty, you – _you_ broke into the lab?'

Marty stood motionless, petrified and unable to speak. He was beginning to panic; he had fight a rising urge to run at Doc and tackle him to the ground, out of the way from any speeding bullets. He couldn't think; a rising whine in his head was drowning out any sane thought in his head. _Gotta think gotta think help me Doc get out of here please oh god don't let Uncle Joey shoot him please…_

Then one thought pierced his whirling mind with the suddenness and preciseness of a bolt of lighting: _if you don't do something now, Doc is going to die._

'Doc,' he said. He'd expected his voice to come out weak and trembling, but was instead surprised by its strength. 'I need you to leave now.'

Doc didn't say anything. Marty couldn't see anything of his expression in the dim light.

After a moment, 'Are you trying to take the DeLorean?'

'Doc! Get out of here, right now!'

'Marty, I know you've been troubled lately. If you just talk to me, you'll feel better…'

Slowly, as if his arm was tied down with heavy weights, Marty raised the gun and aimed it straight at his friend. He noticed with detached surprise that his hand was barely shaking at all. In fact, his hand didn't feel like it belonged to him anymore.

'Get out.'

'Marty, what the hell –,' Doc's voice was breathless, shocked.

Quick as a flash, Marty jerked the gun sideways and fired a shot into the wall. There was an explosion of plaster; Doc yelled and staggered backwards.

'Get out of here, Doc!' Marty yelled, advancing with the gun. Tears were burning his eyes, he was shaking all over, but he couldn't, couldn't, couldn't show this in front of Doc. Doc could _not _suspect anything or he would stay, and then he would be shot. 'Right now! If I have to shoot you I will! And – and – there's someone up at your house right now. Goin' after Clara and the boys. I'm not, I'm not supposed tell you but you're my friend. I figure I owe you. So go on!'

The mention of his family did it. It was doubtful that he truly believed Marty, but it obviously wasn't a risk he was going to take. After giving Marty an indescribable look – of fear, shock, hurt, anger – he whirled around out of sight. Marty heard his footsteps disappearing rapidly.

Without pausing to catch breath, he turned immediately to the DeLorean, pulled up the gullwing door and got into the driver's seat. After a moment, the other door opened and Uncle Joey slipped in.

'Well done, Marty,' he said, his eyebrows raised. 'Quite a performance! I truly wasn't expecting it.'

Marty didn't look at him, but twisted the key in the ignition and floored the accelerator. As the car burst through the swinging doors with their broken lock he didn't look to see where Doc was. Pulling onto the road, the surroundings around him blurred with tears.

'I guess we're partners in crime now, eh?' Uncle Joey said in amusement.

_Partners in Time, _Marty thought miserably. _Doc, what've I done?_

**Warning: the rating on this story will almost certainly go up in later chapters.**


	4. Chapter 4

'So, what do you want the time machine for?' Marty kept his tone casual, not belying the fact that he was heavy with terror and shame at what he had done. 'You wanted to see the future? Maybe the past? Wherever, you name it.' _Anything to get me out of this alive. _But he knew Uncle Joey must be able to see right through his apparently careless, too light-hearted tone.

His uncle, though, wasn't paying much attention; he was staring vacantly out of the car window at the passing houses. He hadn't given Marty any directions, so the teenager was driving aimlessly around the quiet, dark streets.

Now he looked around at Marty with an odd expression in his eyes. 'Well, yes,' he said thoughtfully. 'I had planned to make one stop before I left…but then I won't know how to use this thing…' He was speaking vaguely to himself. 'Perhaps…yes, perhaps it would be best if you showed me how to use it now.' He gave Marty a friendly smile. Marty clenched the steering wheel and focused on looking unconcerned. 'You say we can go to any time?'

'Yeah.'

'In that case, take me one hour into the future. And tell me how you're doing it.'

When Marty hesitated, he calmly set the gun to Marty's head. 'Please.'

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The DeLorean screeched to halt, and the blue flashes across the windshield faded. Uncle Joey sat motionless.

'We're here,' said Marty flatly.

Uncle Joey turned to look at him. His eyes were boggling and his mouth gaping. 'This…this is really the future?'

Marty nodded.

'But…but…' He spun around to Marty, his eyes suddenly narrowed and suspicious. 'It looks exactly the same.'

'It's gotten darker,' Marty pointed out.

'So it has…' Uncle Joey looked excited again. Marty had explained everything about time travel to him – the flux capacitor, Mr Fusion, 88 miles per hour… He had hesitated before giving his uncle the exact details, but at that moment, when the gun was to his head, he realised how much he didn't want die, or more accurately, how desperately he wanted to _live_. He wanted to keep on living, going to school, playing his guitar, seeing Jennifer and Doc and his family. He would tell this psychopath anything if it meant he could continue to live.

But deep inside he knew he couldn't possibly be doing the right thing. He was being selfish, only thinking of himself and not of the consequences for the world he knew. Dammit, he was doing the one thing that Doc had always been so worried about: letting the time machine fall into the wrong hands.

Doc. What would Doc want him to do? Doubtless, in his heart, he would want Marty to live. _In his head_, though – would he concede to that it was best to sacrifice Marty's life for the good of humanity?

At this thought, a wave of misery washed over him. _Sorry, Doc, _he thought bitterly. _Sorry I didn't do what you wanted. I know you would rather I died than have this guy potentially screw up the world. But it's too late now. He knows how to use the time machine._

The question now was, would he let Marty live? At this thought, Marty's chest constricted and he had to struggle to breathe.

'Are – are you going to kill me?' he blurted out, then immediately wished he hadn't put the thought into his uncle's head.

Uncle Joey looked at him vaguely; he still seemed to be dazed by the experience of time travel. 'Oh…' He gave his head a small shake, as if trying to come back to his senses. 'No, of course not, Marty! You've been so helpful to me. I wouldn't think of harming you.'

'Uh, great,' Marty replied weakly, attempting a smile. His heart was pounding with relief and he sank back into the seat, closing his eyes briefly. 'So…can I go home now?'

'Certainly!' Uncle Joey replied jovially. 'We can drop you home, and then I'm off. Just think of all that I'm going to see! What possibilities are open to me!'

Marty nodded fervently, not really listening to a word. All he wanted was to get home, call Doc and explain everything, and then they could set about stopping Uncle Joey. They still had the train, after all, and would be able to tell where he'd gone from the tracking system. They'd stop him.

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By the time they reached Lyon Estates, darkness had fully fallen and no one was about on the street; yellow light shone from within the houses, warm and comforting. Marty wanted nothing more than to escape into his own house, to his family.

He stopped the DeLorean outside his house.

'Well…goodbye,' he said, trying to ignore the voices shrieking at him inside his head. _Have you gone mad? You're turning over a fully operational time machine to a psycho who now, thanks to you, knows exactly how to use it?_

'Goodbye, Marty,' said Uncle Joey. 'And thank you for all your help.'

Without warning, he raised the gun; striking out as swiftly as a snake, he smashed it against Marty's skull.


	5. Chapter 5

The phone rang shrilly, but Doc made no move to get up and answer it. He could feel Clara's eyes on him; he remained in his armchair before the crackling fire, keeping his eyes fixed on the flames.

He heard her sigh as she went to answer the phone. 'Hello? Oh, Lorraine, hello!' There was forced normality in her voice. 'Marty? Well, I'm not quite sure…maybe, I'll get him now. Emmett,' she said, placing her hand over the mouthpiece, 'Lorraine McFly wants to speak to you.'

Emmett remained motionless. Why had he been expecting this call?

'Emmett.' Clara's tone was steely and she was looking at him sternly. He had no choice but to get up and take the phone from her.

'Hello?'

'Oh, Doctor Brown.' Lorraine sounded a little flustered. 'I'm sorry to bother you, but have you seen Marty at all today?'

Doc's eyes met Clara's.

'No, I'm afraid I haven't.'

Clara widened her eyes at him, but Doc gave her a frown. What was he supposed to do, tell her that Marty had broken into his lab, threatened him with a gun, and stolen his time machine?

For about the hundredth, he felt a lump in his throat at the memory.

'It's just he didn't come home from school,' Lorraine continued, in a worried tone. 'I'm sure he's fine, but – oh my God!'

Doc blinked. There was a sudden note of fear and shock to Lorraine's voice. 'Lorraine?'

He heard a clatter on the other end of the line, as if the phone had been dropped. Then several loud, sudden bangs that made his heart freeze – gunshots.

Shouts, then Lorraine screaming – and abruptly cut off by another shot. And then nothing.

The silence on Doc's end of the line was shattered by the phone slipping from his hand to the floor.

'Emmett!' Clara scooped up the phone and stared at him. 'What is it? Why, you – you've gone dreadfully pale – sit down, what's wrong?'

She helped him over to the armchair and he sank into it, feeling weak. He was shaking all over, but barely noticed. _It didn't happen, did it? Please tell me it didn't happen. I imagined it…_

He closed his eyes.

'Emmett.' Clara now sounded very scared. 'Please tell me what the matter is. I heard bangs…'

Doc took a deep breath and opened his eyes, managing to focus on his wife. 'Something has happened at the McFlys',' he said, surprised by how calm his voice was. 'I need to go there right away.'

Clara's hand drifted to her mouth. 'Something serious?'

Doc tried to sound cheerful. 'No, no, I'm sure it's nothing – I'm sure – oh God.' His voice cracked and his head dropped into his hands.

'Oh, no!' Clara cried, falling to her knees in front of him. 'No! Oh, Emmett! No!'

Doc tried to reassure her, but when he opened his mouth no sound came out; to his shock he realised tears were pouring down his cheeks. With a strangled sob Clara leant forward and enveloped him in her arms.

Doc clutched his wife to him, trying to deny what he had heard, but he couldn't get it out of his head. Gunshots. Screaming.

He pushed Clara away from him and got to his feet. 'I'm going there now,' he said, his voice trembling only slightly. 'I have to see what's happened. We – we could be overreacting. It's probably nothing. I – ' His voice faltered and he glanced away briefly. When he had regained his composure, he looked at Clara again and said, 'I'll be back soon. I just need to check up on them.'

'Yes, dear,' Clara said softly, tears glimmering on her eyelashes.

As Doc headed towards the door, there was only one thought in his head: _Oh, Marty. Have you done this? Marty!_


	6. Chapter 6

Driving to the McFly home, Doc was almost able to convince himself that nothing serious had happened. Those bangs could have been anything, minor incidents, and they had given Lorraine a bit of a fright. That was all.

But as he turned the station wagon onto Lyon Estates and up towards Marty's home, he realised with the most sickening feeling in his gut that he had ever experienced, that something was very, very wrong.

Many people were standing around the McFly home, most gathered in small groups, conversing wildly; some were just staring at the house with expressions of shock on their faces. There were several police cars parked there, red and blue lights flashing. The door of the house was open, letting yellow light spill onto the lawn – and was cordoned off by police tape…

Doc screeched to a halt in the middle of the road and leaped out of the station wagon. His heart was pounding with terror as he ran towards the house – but a police officer was standing in front of the door.

'I'm afraid you can't come in here, sir.'

'No – no, you don't understand. I know something's happened – I heard shots! Tell me what's happened!' Doc's voice rose in fear.

The officer's eyes suddenly narrowed. 'You heard shots? And you've only just come to check it out now?'

Doc realised he was being marked as suspicious and hastened to explain. 'I was on the phone to Lorraine McFly – and there were shots – and she was screaming – ' He swallowed. 'Please, tell me what happened!'

The officer stared at him a moment longer, then took him to the side and said softly, 'They're dead. All of 'em. Someone just went in and shot them all…' He broke off, his mouth pressed into a grim line.

Doc said nothing.

The McFlys were dead. Shot.

He couldn't believe it. It couldn't be true.

He saw again Marty. And the gun.

_Oh my God, Marty…please tell me you didn't have anything to do with this._

Marty wasn't capable of such a thing, ever. At least, this was what he would have said before the events an hour ago. Marty had threatened him with a gun. Shot a bullet into the wall beside him. And now his family was dead.

As he stood there silently, trying to take it in, the officer added, 'Don't tell the kid.'

Doc stared at the officer. He seemed to be a very long way off. 'Kid?' His voice sounded slow and sluggish.

'Yeah, the McFly kid. He was found lying over there by the road, someone had hit him over the head – probably that son of a bitch who – ' He shook his head. 'The ambulance will be here in a moment, I don't know what's keeping it…'

Doc didn't hear anymore; he was already striding away. There was a small group of people gathered around someone crumpled on the pavement.

He pushed his way to Marty's side and knelt down, placing his hand on the teen's shoulder. 'Marty! Marty, can you hear me?'

Marty's eyelids fluttered and he moaned softly. There was an ugly welt raised on his temple.

'Let him be, the ambulance'll be here soon,' someone said from behind Doc, but it was too late; Marty's eyes cracked open and he squinted upwards.

'Doc?' His voice was hoarse and rasping.

The scientist squeezed his shoulder; between his shock at the death of the McFlys – he was still putting off thinking about it – and his concern for Marty, he was willing to forget what had happened a few hours ago until Marty was fit for answering his questions.

A sudden ice-cold chill came over him: _when will Marty be fit for answering anything ever again?_

He pushed the thought from his mind. They still had the time machines – well, one of them, God knows what Marty had done with the DeLorean – and somehow, they could fix this tragedy. In the meantime, though…

To Marty, he said, 'It's OK. Just rest there.'

But his friend was struggling, raising his head despite the obvious pain it caused him. 'What's goin' on?'

'Nothing – nothing…'

Marty was staring over at his house now, eyes wide as he saw the police officers standing around and the tape in front of the door. 'Oh God…' He looked swiftly up at Doc, his face a mask of horror and disbelief. 'Doc?'

Doc swallowed very hard. 'No, it's OK, Marty – nothing's wrong…'

Realisation dawned in Marty's expression as he saw the truth in Doc's eyes. 'Oh my God…' he whispered. He clapped a mouth as if he was going to be sick, and jolted upwards abruptly into a sitting position, swaying slightly. '_Oh my God!'_

He pushed himself to his feet, wobbling, but managed to remain upright. His eyes were fixed on his house, the blue and red lights from the police cars flashing on his face.

There were murmurs from the people standing around him and Doc. 'Steady on, son…' 'Rest easy a minute…'

Doc grabbed Marty's arm. 'Marty, wait – '

Marty shoved him away with surprising strength, considering he had been unconscious only moments before; Doc staggered backwards, and Marty was away running towards the house before he could grab him again.

'MARTY! NO!' Doc yelled, yet knowing there was nothing he could do. The officer guarding the door had turned away to talk to someone; Marty charged through the front door, stumbling as he tripped over the police tape, but intent on his goal.

Despite the cries of shock from the people around him and the shout the police officer let out, there was nothing to stop Doc hearing Marty's anguished scream from inside his home.


	7. Chapter 7

Doc didn't know how long he sat out in the hospital hallway, head in hands, occasionally feeling a tear trickle down his cheek. Therefore, he got a shock when a soft voice said, 'Doctor Brown?'

He sat upwards quickly, startled. A doctor with long brown hair and soft eyes was standing beside him. He got to his feet, not bothering to wipe his face, which was streaked with dried tears. He knew he must look like hell. He didn't care.

'How's – how's Marty?' His voice sounded quite unlike his own, hoarse and rasping.

The doctor smiled, but her eyes were sad. 'Well, you'll be glad to know that he hasn't suffered a concussion, although he does have a rather nasty bruise on his forehead.'

Doc nodded absently. 'And…' he began, not knowing how to go on.

The doctor laid a hand on his arm, no longer smiling. Her gaze was fixed intensely on Doc. 'There's no easy way to put it,' she said. 'He's suffering from deep shock. What happened to his family tonight – and then I heard he ran in and saw…' She grimaced. 'His grief is not going to be an easy process.'

Doc was nodding again, blankly, not really taking any of it in. _But we've got the time machine, _he kept telling himself. _We can stop it. We can fix it._

But he knew that there was nothing to stop Marty from remembering.

'You said earlier that you were a close friend of his?' the doctor was saying. 'Would it be much trouble to take him home with you? There's not much we can do for him here, and I think he would be better off with someone close to him…'

'Of course,' Doc said immediately. 'Of course I'll take him.'

While the doctor was fetching Marty he went to a payphone and called Clara. He had called her when he'd first arrived at the hospital, leaving a brief message to explain what had happened and where he was. Now, when his wife picked up, her voice was tearful.

'Clara,' he said heavily.

'Oh, Emmett!' Clara let out a strangled sob. 'Oh – oh!'

'Shh, it's OK, shh…' Doc's words were automatic; for how could he comfort his wife from the other end of a phone line? 'Listen, Clara – Marty is staying with us and I need you to prepare the guest room. Can you do that?'

He heard her make an effort to control her tears. 'Yes, certainly. Would – would you like me to make anything? Dinner?'

'No thanks,' Doc replied, knowing that Marty wouldn't be eating anything tonight; neither would Doc himself, for that matter.

'That's fine.' Clara's voice was soft. 'I'll see you soon, Emmett.'

'Goodbye.' Doc replaced the phone.

The conversation had been awkward and empty, but Doc knew that he couldn't communicate properly with Clara until he could take her in his arms and release his grief. He just kept thinking of the McFlys – George, Lorraine, Dave, Linda – all lying dead, cold and lifeless. And Marty left alone. He didn't know what to say to his wife when they both knew the stark cold reality of the situation but couldn't bear to speak of it...

At the thought of Marty he made his way back to where he had been sitting; the nurse was now standing there with the teenager by her side.

At the sight of his friend, Doc's heart gave a painful thud; his first impulse was to run to Marty and pull him into a tight hug. But something stopped him – Marty was standing very still, his face white, the bruise looking uglier and larger than ever on his temple, and his eyes…shadowed and red-rimmed, but utterly blank. It was this that halted Doc in his tracks.

Slowly, hesitantly, he walked up to Marty and reached out to place a hand on his arm. 'Marty?'

Marty simply looked at him, expressionless.

The nurse cast a concerned look at Doc before turning to the teenager. 'Marty, you'll have to come back for a check-up, perhaps tomorrow, and then…' She hesitated and bit her lip. 'Well, you can just go home for now, anyway.'

Doc nodded gratefully at her; Marty, however, stared straight ahead.

'Come on, Marty,' Doc said softly.

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They said nothing to each other as they made their way out of the hospital and across the car park to where Doc's station wagon was parked askew. On the drive home they were equally silent. Doc clenched the wheel and kept his eyes on the road, but inside his heart was aching for his friend, and he was cursing himself for somehow creating the barrier between them. He didn't know what to say now. He felt utterly helpless.

When they reached Doc's house yellow light was glowing from within, warm and comforting. The silence continued as they got out of the station wagon and walked towards the front door.

It was flung open suddenly, and Clara stood framed there. 'Oh, Marty!' she cried, and rushed forward to clutch her to him, clasping him tightly.

She had not hesitated as Doc had, and now he saw tears glistening in Marty's eyes, his expression crumpling slightly; then, with a choked sob, he laid his head on Clara's shoulder. She closed her eyes and rested her cheek on his head. Mothering him. Because Marty didn't have a mother anymore.

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They brought him into the sitting room, where a fire was roaring, and Clara hurried into the kitchen to make a cup of tea, 'for the shock,' she murmured into Doc's ear before slipping off. Doc led Marty over to the sofa, seated him there, sat down beside him, and pulled Marty into a hug.

After a while he felt Marty's shoulders shaking underneath his arms.

'It's OK, Marty,' he said quietly. 'Shh…it's OK. We have the time machine, you know that. They aren't really – they aren't really d – they aren't gone. We can stop it.'

There was a sudden loud, gasping sob from Marty. Doc pushed his friend away from him and gripped him by the shoulders, looking him in the eye. Marty's face was white and streaked with tears, his eyes wild.

'Marty, please,' Doc said softly. '_Please._ Don't.'

Marty spoke for the first time since he had run into the McFly home. 'Don't what, Doc?' His voice was little more than a hoarse whisper.

'Don't…don't…' Doc didn't know. All he knew was that he found it almost unbearable to witness his closest friend's grief. 'Don't cry.'

Marty covered his face with his hands and rocked forward, emitting a long, low groan, and Doc realised that even if they went back in time and caused the McFlys' deaths to never happen, things for Marty would never be the same again.


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry that I took so long in updating! And after all that time, the chapter is really short :( But I'll try update again soon. **

Ten minutes after Marty had finished the tea Clara had given him, he was fast asleep on the sofa. Doc turned to look at his wife. 'You put something in that.'

She shrugged. 'He needed it, Emmett.'

'It wasn't as if he was hysterical or anything…' Rather, Marty was in a state of complete shock. Doc couldn't decide which would be worse.

'Yes, but you _know _that he wasn't going to be able to sleep otherwise.'

There was silence between them for a moment; then Clara gave a huge sniff and Doc looked over to see tears pouring down her cheeks.

'Clara…' he said heavily.

'I know you don't want me to be sad, Emmett,' whispered Clara, mopping at her face with a handkerchief, 'but time machine or no time machine, you can't change the fact that they're dead. They're really gone.'

She looked so stricken that Doc wanted to cry himself; instead, for some reason, he found himself growing more irritated. 'They aren't _really gone_,' he said, more sharply than he'd intended. 'Tomorrow we can work something out and stop it from ever happening. There's no reason to get upset.'

There was a sudden wild sob from Clara that shocked him. 'Of course they're gone, Emmett! Even with your time machine, you can't change that fact that they're lying dead somewhere right here and now. And if you don't feel that way, maybe you could be more sympathetic to those who do – it's always been a problem of yours…'

Her words horrified Doc. 'What in the name of Sir Isaac H. Newton do you mean by that?'

Clara glanced away, taking a deep breath. 'I'm not angry with you, Emmett,' she said in a softer tone. 'I just think that maybe instead of ignoring other people's problems, you could try solving them.'

'What – I don't – of course I try to help with people's problems!'

'Most of the time, yes, I know. But sometimes not.'

'I don't understand,' Doc said in a hollow tone.

Clara came over to sit on the sofa beside him, and reached out to brush his forehead. 'You don't? You mentioned it only today. Remember we were talking about Marty and what happened at Halloween, and you said you wished you'd talked to him about it straightaway, before it became too late.'

'But – but – then I _did_ talk to him.'

'I know, but wouldn't it have been better if you had brought it up straight after Halloween?' Clara smiled sadly at him. 'I think you care so much about certain people that you can't bear to see them suffer. You knew that Marty had been through something bad, but acknowledging it would mean having to see his pain. So you chose to ignore it.' She squeezed his arm. 'Am I right?'

Doc thought.

They had come back from that alternate world and he had _seen _a change in Marty's behaviour. He had chosen to ignore it. He knew what had almost happened to Marty – and it didn't bear thinking about. So he _didn't _think about it. And Marty had gone on, suffering, probably trying to ignore it himself.

Now Clara was upset and he was trying to ignore that too, by telling both her and himself that there wasn't really a problem here. They had a time machine. They could stop the McFlys from dying. End of story.

'Clara,' he whispered. She was right. Of course she was.

His wife enfolded her arms around him, burying her face into his neck. 'I just don't want you to hurt Marty any more than he's already been hurt,' she murmured into his ear. 'By pretending that there's nothing wrong you'll only make it worse.'

'I'm – I'm sorry.'

'There's nothing to be sorry about.' Clara sat up and kissed his forehead. 'It's just a sign of how much you care for people. And I love you for that. I love you so very much, Emmett.'

'I love you too,' Doc said softly.

They sat like that for a long time, holding each other, comforting each other.


	9. Chapter 9

Marty had been left to sleep on the sofa the night before; Jules and Verne had been strictly banned from the sitting room and were forbidden to raise their voices. They probably wouldn't have made much noise, anyway; they hadn't been told anything of the McFlys' fates, but they seemed to know something was up and looked pale and subdued. Clara had encouraged them to go outside and play, and then she herself had retreated upstairs. Doc was left alone in the kitchen, with nothing to do but wait.

And wait.

Finally, around noon, the door opened and Marty entered the kitchen. He looked much the same as he had last night, if not worse – his hair was sticking out in every direction and his eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed. Without looking at Doc, he shuffled over to the table and dropped into a chair opposite him.

For a while they simply sat there, silence ringing in the air.

After several minutes Doc cleared his throat. 'Marty,' he said.

Marty stared at the table.

'Marty, please look at me.'

He saw his friend's lip tremble, as if he was about to cry, but no tears came to his eyes and he still didn't look at Doc.

'We have to talk.'

Marty shook his head silently, his eyes now flickering upwards to Doc. 'There's nothing to talk about.' His voice was rough and rasping.

'Of course there is,' said Doc quietly. 'C'mon, Marty. You know we haven't talked since Halloween. That's my fault, but it's partly your fault as well – ' He shook his head abruptly. 'OK, that's not the point. Right we need to work together, and to do that you have to talk to me. Will you do that?'

Marty raised his head and stared him, with the saddest expression Doc had ever seen. Deciding that it would be best not to push him for an answer, the scientist hurried on, 'Right then. Marty – do you know who killed your family?'

The question was out of his mouth before he could stammer or hesitate over the bluntness of it. He watched Marty tentatively. The teenager didn't blanch at his words; in fact, his expression didn't change at all. He shrugged, glanced away, threw up his hands. 'I killed them, Doc. Anyone killed them. What does it matter?

Doc blinked at the answer, but quickly realised that Marty was lying and took a deep breath to calm himself. 'I know that's not true, Marty. What, did you hit yourself over the head after that?'

'And I _said, _what does it matter?' Marty snapped. His fists were suddenly clenched tightly on top of the table.

'Can't you see I'm trying to help you?'

'Help _me, _yeah right,' Marty muttered darkly.

'Of course I am,' said Doc through gritted teeth, forcing himself to remain patient. 'Now, are you – '

The doorbell rang, and he sighed. One look at Marty's face told him that there wasn't much point in pushing it any further at that very moment; he got up from the table and went out to the front door.

Jennifer was there, looking thin and pale. 'Doc Brown,' she said in a quiet, trembling voice. Her large brown eyes were swimming with tears. 'I heard – did you – I – ' She broke off and pressed a hand to her mouth, her shoulders beginning to shake.

Doc grimaced and pulled her into a quick hug. He wanted to comfort Jennifer but wasn't sure that he could deal with two grieving teenagers at once; and right now, Marty was his top priority. 'I know, I know,' he said heavily, pulling back. Jennifer sniffed and wiped her eyes, but the tears continued to pour down her face. 'It's so _awful_…I can't believe it, I don't want to believe it…do you know where Marty is?'

'He's here. He knows something about – about what happened, so I'm trying to get some answers out of him. It's not easy, though. He's in a state of shock, he's not saying much.'

'Would it – help if I was there?'

Doc considered this for a moment, and then shook his head. 'Perhaps it's best you don't come in. Marty has a lot to deal with right now.'

Her eyes suddenly shone with hope. 'Are you…the time machine…?'

Doc smiled at her reassuringly, though his mouth had never felt less like smiling. 'Don't worry, Jennifer. We can use the train to stop the person who did this.' He didn't mention the incident yesterday in which Marty had stolen the DeLorean.

She managed a small smile herself. 'Well, that's…that's good.'

He nodded.

'Goodbye then,' she said softly, turning away. 'And good luck.'

'Goodbye, Jennifer,' said Doc, watching her walk away. Something then caught his attention – there was a man standing on the pavement outside his garden, reading in a newspaper that had the headline MCFLY FAMILY MURDER SHOCKS HILLY VALLEY splashed across the front page. Doc realised that he could have easily overheard their conversation, and wondered if he had said anything incriminating; but the man seemed engrossed reading.

Frowning, Doc retreated inside and shut the front door.

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Lost in thought, he made his way back to the kitchen – only to stop abruptly in the doorway. Marty was still sitting at the table, but his head was buried in his arms and his shoulders were shaking violently. Doc could hear him sobbing quietly.

He was torn between going to comfort his friend or slipping away, but the sudden shrill sound of the phone ringing made the decision for him. Marty's head jerked up; his eyes were wide and his cheeks tear-stained. Avoiding his gaze, Doc made for the phone.

'Hello?'

There was a pause from the other end of the line. 'Doctor Brown?' It was a man's voice, smooth and friendly.

'That's me, yes.'

'It's come to my knowledge that Martin McFly is staying with you. May I please speak to him?'

'Well…' Doc glanced over at Marty. The teen was watching him silently.

'It's quite urgent.'

Grimacing, Doc cupped his hand over the mouthpiece and said, 'It's for you, Marty. Do you want to take the call? You don't have to…'

Marty shrugged; getting up from the table, he crossed the room to Doc and took the phone from him.

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The minute the caller spoke, Marty knew it was Uncle Joey.

'Marty? It's nice to hear from you again.'

'You – ' Marty's heart pounded, and it took most of his willpower to stop himself from smashing the phone against the wall in rage. 'You bastard – ' Out of the corner of his eye he could see Doc standing there, but barely registered his presence.

'Let's cut to the chase, please – I'm on a payphone and I don't have much change on me!' Uncle Joey's voice was jovial. 'The thing is, I overheard a conversation only a minute ago in which your dear Doctor Brown revealed that he has a second time machine, and that he plans to stop me with it. You can see that I can't very well let this happen.'

Marty's head whirled – _how does he know, what conversation – _but all he said was, 'Yeah, you shoulda thought of that, right?'

His uncle's voice suddenly became cold. 'Perhaps. But it doesn't matter. If I have that second time machine – a _train_, is it? – and if I have Doctor Brown, then I'll be safe.'

'You – what? You want _Doc?' _He felt Doc start next to him.

'Yes, and you'll be the one to bring him to me – as well as the second time machine.'

'Like _hell _I will!' Marty suddenly spat, clutching the phone in his hand. He wished more than anything it were Uncle Joey's neck. 'How're you gonna make me, then? You can't make me do anything anymore. You killed my family!' His voice rose in a cracked laugh. 'You've taken everything away from me, you bastard. And you know what? I'm gonna find you, and I'm gonna kill you. That's what I'll do.'

'I've taken _everything_ away from you?' Uncle Joey sounded amused. 'Not quite everything, I'm sure. For example, how about your pretty little girlfriend that I have right next to me in this phone booth? Jennifer, isn't it?'

'Oh my God,' Marty breathed. 'Oh no.'

Uncle Joey's voice became distant. 'Go on, sweetie. You can say something.'

Jennifer was then speaking in Marty's ear. 'M-Marty?'

'Oh God.' Marty swallowed. 'Oh God. Are you all right? Has he hurt you?'

'No – but he has a gun…' She gave a helpless sob. 'I'm scared, Marty – I don't want you or Doc to get hurt – ' There was a cry, and Marty heard Uncle Joey mutter something in the background. He closed his eyes.

'Marty?' Doc whispered. 'What's going on?'

Uncle Joey was talking into the phone again. 'So, Marty. It's your choice. You either bring Doctor Brown and that second time machine to me, or I kill your girlfriend. And no funny stuff, like going back in time to stop me killing your family or anything like that. I want you to meet me in front of your house fifteen minutes before I kill your family.'

'And – and…' Marty's throat had gone very dry and he could feel tears stinging his eyes. 'Are you going to kill Doc?'

'No, I'm going to ask him to join me and help me take over the world,' his uncle sneered. 'Of course I'm going to kill him! He knows how to build a time machine. With that knowledge, he could stop me. I _need _him dead. Can't you see I have no choice? Anyway, it's entirely up to you – your girlfriend or your scientist pal. If you want my opinion, though, you'd give up the doctor. Because otherwise, I'll kill Jennifer and find some other way of getting him. And then you really will have no one left, will you?'

There was a sharp click as he hung up.


	10. Chapter 10

'He's got Jennifer, Doc,' Marty was saying, staring blindly at him. 'He's got Jennifer. He's got her, and you know what he's going to do? He's gonna shoot her. And then he's gonna kill you. He'll come and he'll shoot you and then you'll all be dead, because of me, because of me…'

Doc grabbed his shoulder and gave it a quick shake. 'Calm down, Marty!' he said, managing to keep his voice steady. 'You're not making any sense. Sit down, here…' He helped his friend over to the table. Marty's face was as white as a sheet.

Doc dropped into a chair across from him and reached across to give his arm a quick squeeze. 'OK, Marty,' he said firmly. 'Start talking. What's going on? Who has Jennifer? The person who…killed your family?' When Marty didn't reply he told him quietly, 'You aren't helping anyone, least of all Jennifer, if you just sit there and say nothing.'

'My uncle,' Marty said in a dead tone of voice. 'My uncle Joey has her. He killed my family.'

'Your _uncle_?'

Marty rubbed a sleeve across his eyes. 'I might've told you about him before,' he muttered. 'He was in prison, but he's out now. And I dunno…he…he blamed my mom and dad, or something…he was angry at them – and he killed them, and Dave, and Linda.' He sniffed loudly, and then looked up at Doc with wild eyes. 'I'm sorry, Doc. I'm so sorry. It's my fault – but I didn't mean it! I didn't mean any of this to happen – my uncle made me steal the DeLorean. He was going to shoot you, Doc. I couldn't let that happen, could I?' His voice descended into a whisper; he was twisting his fingers together and swallowing hard. 'Couldn't let that happen, Doc.'

'He made you steal the time machine,' Doc said slowly. Things were beginning to fall into place. 'How did he know about it?'

Marty shrugged 'He saw photographs of you, Clara…me…He figured it out. You aren't – you aren't mad, are you? I couldn't let him shoot you! And I'm sorry I didn't stop him, and I'm sorry I showed him how to use the time machine! I know you would've rather I died than get it – '

'_Marty_!' Doc stood up so fast his chair toppled backwards and crashed to the floor. 'That's – where – how on earth did you get that idea? When did I– Marty.' He shook his head in disbelief. 'That's a terrible thing to say. I would _never_ rather you died. _Never_.'

'Well…I dunno, Doc. You're always talking about the good of humanity and all that, aren't ya? I mean, what's my life compared to some psycho on the loose? At least, I guess that's your reasoning.' He gave Doc a challenging look.

'Marty.' Doc's tone turned hard. 'I've never heard such utter nonsense and self-pity. When did I ever give you the impression that I – ' He broke off. 'You don't really believe that, do you?'

Marty blinked, sucked in his cheeks. 'I dunno. I dunno where I got the idea. When I was with Uncle Joey, a lot of things were sorta goin' through my mind…' He glanced shamefacedly at Doc. 'Sorry.'

Doc took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. 'It's OK, Marty. I understand that you were under a lot of pressure. But listen.' He picked up his chair from off the ground and sat down again. 'If we're going to save Jennifer and bring back your family, then we need to work together and have a complete understanding of each other. I mean, we haven't really talked since the incident at Halloween, have we?'

'_Why_ are you bringing this up _now_?' Marty's voice rose in distress. 'Look, I've got other things on my mind, Doc! My family's dead! _Dead!_ And now he's got Jen. Whatever happened at Halloween – OK, I _have _been thinking on it a lot…I was – was I sorta expecting this to happen…?' He trailed off and ran a hand through his hair, looking lost and confused.

Doc's eyes narrowed. 'What do you mean, you were _expecting _it?'

'Nothing,' Marty muttered. 'But, Doc,' he looked at him with a sorrowful expression, 'it happened. Sometimes you just can't change things.'

'Are you saying you don't want us to save your family?' Doc said in disbelief.

'No! No, I just – it happened. And whatever happens next happens.'

There was definitely something extremely odd in what Marty was saying, but Doc chose to dismiss it as a result of the trauma Marty had been through. He could only hope that once everything was solved, his friend would be back to normal.

'We have to figure out a plan,' he said. 'So you'd better start by telling me everything.'

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Ten minutes later, Doc was pacing the kitchen. 'I don't see any way around this without causing a paradox,' he said frantically. 'Your uncle wants us to meet him fifteen minutes before he kills your family? That can go wrong in more ways than I want to think of.'

'We just gotta think, Doc,' Marty said. 'We go to my house first, and kick that bastard's ass. Then we go back fifteen minutes in time and rescue Jennifer. It's simple!'

'It _can't _be that simple. Even the first task of saving your family could create a paradox! That was the one event that started the chain reaction of all these events that followed.'

'And I don't think it's a problem,' Marty countered. 'Remember when at Halloween in Ireland, we stopped the natives from seeing our other selves and then creating that Halloween world? What happened to our other selves after that, if they never saw what we did?'

'Well, I suppose they went into an alternate world…'

'Yeah, exactly.'

Doc closed his eyes briefly and sighed. 'OK. Fine. Let us say that we ignore the possible deadly outcomes of such a situation and stop your uncle from killing your family. What do we do with your uncle then?'

'I dunno…kill him.'

'You don't mean that, Marty.'

'He killed my family.'

'I know.'

There was silence. Finally, Doc rubbed his forehead and spoke. 'Right, I think I have something worked out. Here's what we're going to do…'


	11. Chapter 11

**Thanks to everyone for all the encouraging reviews! Without them this fic would have been dead and buried. But I have to warn you, though, that after this chapter things happen that should cause major paradoxes…but, er, don't. If you find some of the events hard to swallow, put it down to alternate universes being created – that's what I'm doing! (I know it's taking the easy way out, but I really worked myself into a rut with all the paradoxes I should be causing and all I can do now is ignore them.) Anyway, enjoy the chapter!**

'You're sure that you can handle the train?' Doc was asking anxiously.

'Yeah, I'm sure,' Marty replied patiently. 'I've flown it before, remember?'

'Right.'

'Yeah.'

They stood for a moment at the train's doorway, just looking at each other. 'Well…good luck,' Doc said eventually. 'Marty – please don't do anything stupid.'

Marty frowned at him and tossed the sleep inducer lightly into the air before catching it again. 'I don't see how hard it can be.'

'Stopping your uncle from killing your family is the easy part. What follows is where things will become sticky.'

Marty nodded tersely. 'You better go.'

They shook hands quickly and then Doc departed. The train was parked in a deserted area near Marty's street. It was twenty minutes before Uncle Joey was due to kill Marty's family.

As Doc walked briskly away, he heard the train rise into the air behind him and then the three sonic booms as it left this time.

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Ten minutes before Joey was due to kill the McFlys, Marty arrived at the same place again. He scrambled down the steps and quickly activated the new device Doc had installed that would allow the train's exterior to take on the appearance of its surroundings, rendering it invisible. Marty stepped back as it disappeared, letting out a low whistle. 'Thank God for the Doc,' he said to himself.

He made off at a run, safe in the knowledge that no one came to this area and there was practically no chance of anyone accidentally discovering the train. As he rounded the corner that led to his street, he squinted down the street towards his house; to his immense relief, there was no sign of Joey, Jennifer and the Doc or the other Joey and Marty's past self arriving in the DeLorean – although the latter two could turn up at any minute. _Why do we have to cut things so damn close? _Marty thought in dismay, although he knew Joey had planned things this way so that there would be less chance of them saving Marty's family. But Marty smiled grimly as he knew Joey couldn't count on it. He couldn't count on anything while Doc and Marty had a time machine. Marty felt slightly more hopeful – did that mean they had the upper hand?

Then again, Uncle Joey _did_ have Jennifer – and, by now, Doc…

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As Doc approached the McFly home, he could see a tall man lounging against a neighbour's wall; with a thud of his heart, he realised that Jennifer was standing beside him, wearing a resolute expression. This was Uncle Joey.

Joey's eyes narrowed and he straightened up as Doc approached. He had a hand hidden inside his overcoat – hiding a gun, no doubt. Jennifer's eyes met Doc's briefly and he could see her fear. He acknowledged her with a silent nod.

'You,' Joey growled. 'You're that crazy old scientist…'

'That's right, I am,' replied Doc.

'Where's the kid?' Joey snarled. 'And the second time machine?'

Doc smiled pleasantly. 'You hardly expect us to bring a _train _here? It would be a bit noticeable, don't you think? Don't worry, Marty is waiting for us at ten o'clock tomorrow night at my house – with the train.'

Joey's eye twitched and he glanced around nervously. _He really is crazy, _Doc realised. 'Then how'd you get here?'

'Marty dropped me off in the train, then went to the time tomorrow I've just mentioned,' Doc lied. 'Shall we go now? Oh, and I believe Jennifer is free to go. Marty has held up his side of the bargain, it seems.'

Joey seized Jennifer's shoulder. 'Not so fast. I still don't have the train.'

'And…then will you let me go?' asked Jennifer in a frightened voice, playing along; she had caught Doc's eye and obviously realised that he had no intention of giving either himself or the train up.

Joey smiled. 'Maybe, kid. Maybe.'

Doc shrugged lightly. 'It'll be a tight fit in the DeLorean, but it's your choice.'

Marty's uncle grabbed his collar and stared into his eyes. 'That kid better be there with that time machine,' he uttered in a low, deadly voice. 'Or else.'

'He'll be there,' Doc assured him, knowing all the while that this was the point where they had both run out of plan.

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Marty's heart was banging loudly against his ribcage as he crept around the side of his house. From within, he could hear the low murmur of conversation of his family. Any minute now, Uncle Joey would show up and end their lives. The image of how he'd seen them last whirled in Marty's mind – slumped on the floor, wide empty eyes, the blood, the blood everywhere –

He pushed the thought out of his mind, gritting his teeth, ignoring it, trying to forget he had ever seen it. Hot tears burned in his eyes. _Not this time, _he vowed. _They won't die this time. I won't let that happen._

Objective one was to get them out of the house, quickly, and then to silence them with the sleep inducer. Marty grimaced as he pulled the balaclava over his face and gripped the sleep inducer tightly in his hand.

_This is really stupid._

He raised his hand and knocked loudly on the back door, calming himself by taking in deep, steadying breaths.

Linda was the one who answered the door. Her eyes widened as she took in Marty's appearance and for a second he could only stare stupidly at her, thinking she had recognised him; then he came to his senses and aimed the sleep inducer at her eyes. With a small sigh she collapsed forward and Marty caught her limp form, groaning under the weight, and laid her down on the ground.

Dave was suddenly there. 'Linda? What – _oh my God – _' Marty charged at him, almost knocking him over, and thrust the sleep inducer at him. He, too, was out like a light. There was no time to catch him; George McFly was already coming at him, his face full of fury; but his eyes went blank and he toppled forward as he, too, fell under the effect of the gadget.

Lorraine was standing by the kitchen worktop, and was staring aghast at the slumped forms of her husband and eldest son. She backed away as Marty came towards her. 'Don't hurt me,' she screamed, tears pouring down her cheeks. 'Please, please, don't hurt me!'

Marty's heart ached to see his mother in such obvious terror. 'Don't worry, Mom,' he said, before he could stop himself.

Lorraine's mouth dropped open and her eyes widened; before she could say anything, Marty shone the sleep inducer in her eyes, cursing his own stupidity. He caught her gently as she sagged forward.

By the time he had managed to get Dave, George and Lorraine outside and laid them on the path outside the back door he was breathing heavily. 'Sorry you guys,' he muttered, wiping a hand across his forehead, 'but this is for your own good.'

He stepped back inside the house, pulled it shut and turned the key in the lock for good measure. Tossing the key behind a potted plant, he wondered worriedly how long his family would remain unconscious. He knew that the sleep inducer's strength faded each time it was used…and he still had to use it on the Uncle Joey who was coming here tonight to murder the McFly family.

And after that? Marty didn't know. Doc had run out of plan after that, simply telling him to use his instinct. Marty had a feeling that this basically meant to try overpower the Uncle Joey who had Jennifer and now Doc in his grasp. And if he couldn't? Well then...he didn't know.

He heard a car draw up outside and ran to the window. The DeLorean was pulled up outside, sleek and shining in the streetlights. Marty could just see two forms sitting inside; then Uncle Joey got out, walked around to the passenger door, opened it, and pulled the unconscious form of the other Marty out. Present Marty shivered, partly because of the unnaturalness of it all, and partly out of sympathy at seeing his past self flung to the ground.

Uncle Joey was striding towards the front door. Swallowing hard, he ducked behind a partition of the wall, bringing the sleep inducer up in front of him.

He heard the front door open…footsteps…then he could sense Uncle Joey right beside him; and then he stepped out in front of his uncle, said, 'Remember me?' and aimed the sleep inducer into his eyes. Satisfaction swept over him at the look of shock on his uncle's face before he collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud.

Marty aimed a kick at him. _Man, that felt good!_


	12. Chapter 12

As they made their way over to the DeLorean, Uncle Joey kept the gun trained on Doc and one hand on Jennifer's shoulder. She was keeping her head bowed and her eyes fixed on the ground. Joey eyed Doc suspiciously. 'You can drive the car, old man,' he snapped. 'So I can make sure you don't try any funny stuff.' His voice descended into a mutter. 'That kid is gonna pay for this...'

Doc got into the driver's seat and Joey dragged Jennifer round to the other side of the car. He got in and pulled her in after him so that she was almost on his knees. She didn't struggle, but kept perfectly still; her wide eyes were the only indicator of how frightened she was.

Joey pointed the gun at Doc again. 'You said ten tomorrow night?'

'I did.'

'Then – put that in.' Joey gestured within the gun towards the time circuits.

With a steady hand, Doc programmed in their time and destination. 'You don't have to keep pointing that gun at me, you know,' he said calmly. 'I'm cooperating, aren't I?'

'That's true…that's true…' Joey was breathing heavily and his grip on Jennifer was so tight that it looked like he was close to strangling her. She pinched her lips tightly and said nothing. Joey's eyes narrowed abruptly. 'Why _are _you doing this?'

'Uh…' Doc faltered. 'I…I care for Marty. I don't want him to get hurt.'

'You know you're gonna die, right?' Joey was staring at Doc intently; it seemed as though he was trying his very best to get some sign of fear out of the scientist. It was almost working, too. Doc swallowed hard. 'Well, I've…I've had a long life. Marty has barely begun, it only – only seems fair…' His voice trailed off and his eyes met Jennifer's. The message passed between them without words: _We are in deep shit now._

'And you with a wife and kids?' Joey laughed, and jammed the gun into Doc's head. 'I've changed my mind. Let's go to ten minutes to ten tomorrow night.'

_Oh no. _'But Marty's meeting us at – '

'I don't care what the fuck that little shit's doing,' Joey growled into his ear. His breath was hot. 'We are arriving at ten minutes to ten. _Now put that in_.'

As Doc typed in the new time – his hand was trembling now – Uncle Joey leaned back, pulling Jennifer closer, and surveyed him with a satisfied smile. 'I'm not stupid, Doctor Brown,' he said. 'I know that kid is trying to interfere. I wonder can he interfere with a bullet in his brain?'

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Suddenly, after everything, all the strength went out of Marty and he sank to the ground, his knees weak. His head sank into shaking hands. He could just see his family slumped outside the glass patio door. _I saved them, _he thought. _They're alive._

He had seen them murdered and covered in blood, just like he had envisioned in his nightmares since that hellish Halloween trip. And he had saved them. What he had always feared had come true, but he had saved them.

There was only one more part of the nightmare to come true.

Marty tried to push the thought away, but it mocked him, gloating, _You know you can't escape it. Why should it end with your family? Have you forgotten the other person who was murdered in that alternate Halloween world?_

He got to his feet, feeling incredibly weary. And incredibly, heavily sad. After all, he didn't want to die – but he couldn't escape fate. _Whatever happens, happens._

Looking around, he wondered what to do. The general plan was that Marty would arrive at five to ten tomorrow night, hide in Doc's house, wait for Doc and Joey to come at ten and then somehow overpower Joey. The important thing was to be in the house before they arrived.

But he could hardly leave things like this. His family would wake up soon – and so would Uncle Joey. He could also hardly forget his own past self lying unconscious outside.

After tying up Joey with thin cords that he found in a kitchen drawer, Marty made his way to the phone. There was only one person that came to his exhausted mind.

He dialled Doc's number.

When Doc answered, for some reason he nearly burst into tears. More than anything he wanted to spill out everything to this oblivious Doc; he wanted to be comforted. He didn't want to die.

'Doc,' he croaked.

'Marty, is that you?' How familiar and reassuring Doc's voice was!

_I don't want to die, Doc. Please, help me Doc. I don't want to die. Please don't let me die._

Tears were trickling down his cheeks now. 'I need you to come over here, Doc,' he whispered into the phone. 'Right now.'

'Marty, what's wrong?'

Marty shook his head, the tears welling up and blurring his vision. 'Gotta go. Just come over here. Please.'

He hung up the phone and let out one broken sob. He knew that very soon he would be dead.


	13. Chapter 13

When they came to Doc's house at ten minutes to ten the next night, the street was dark and quiet, as was the house. Doc had given Clara strict instructions to stay out of town with the boys that day, but to leave the house unlocked, as Marty would need to move swiftly.

However, that plan was now useless. Marty would be arriving five minutes from now, and he would find his uncle waiting for him. Doc could only feel a numb horror at this disaster. _Why didn't we plan things out properly? _he thought, angry with himself. _We should have known that Joey would see through this. We should have taken time out to work out a proper form of action._

But Marty had been so determined, so desperate to rescue his family right then and there that Doc hadn't been able to tell him to slow down, to take it easy, resulting in their coming up with a lightweight, flimsy plan. Was Doc's mistake about to cost him, Marty and Jennifer their lives?

Joey peered out at the dark house, then turned to sneer at Doc. 'Doesn't look like the kid's here.'

'I told you, he's meeting us at ten.'

'Then what reason would he have for not being here right now?' Joey growled. 'Unless…'

He stared at Doc, and the scientist saw the light of realisation dawn in his eyes.

'Ah.' Joey clenched his teeth and nodded. 'Right. Right.' Jennifer shrank fearfully away, but he pulled her closer, his gaze still fixed on Doc. 'OK. I know what that kid's up to now. Rescuing his family, isn't he? Right.' He licked his lips, still nodding. 'He'll regret this. You'll _all _regret this.'

'Goddamn it!' Doc barked, his self-control slipping for the first time. 'You want me, not Marty and Jennifer! Leave them out of this. Would you really kill two teenagers who have done nothing wrong?'

'I killed a family,' Joey said. His eyes were as cold and lifeless as glass. 'And I'll kill them again. But before that – ' He swung the gun carelessly, 'There're others I need to kill.'

'At least let Jennifer go,' Doc said helplessly.

Joey smiled then. 'I don't think so. The kid hasn't kept his side of the bargain, so I don't think I'll be keeping mine.' Tears welled up in Jennifer's eyes and spilled soundlessly down her cheeks. 'Now, into the house.'

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'Marty? Marty? Can you hear me? C'mon, wake up.' Doc lightly patted the teen's cheeks, biting back his worry that the ugly bruise on Marty's temple might be a lot worse than it looked. 'Marty…Marty…'

Relief shot through him as his friend's eyes suddenly fluttered open. 'Doc?' he murmured weakly. 'That you?'

Grinning from ear to ear, the dreadful weight of concern lifted away, Doc clasped his shoulder. 'I'm here, Marty. It's OK.'

'What're you doing here?' Marty tried to sit up, but Doc firmly pushed him back down. 'Lie still, Marty, you might have a concussion. What do you mean, what am I doing here? I got your call. And what on earth happened to you?'

Marty blinked up at him. 'Call? I didn't call you.'

'Yes…yes you did…' Doc frowned worriedly at Marty. If he couldn't remember it, it was very likely that he was suffering a concussion.

Marty was wincing, reaching up to touch the bruise on his forehead. 'Uncle Joey…my uncle, he hit me…'

'Yes, that's who your mother says is the man inside the house,' Doc said, inwardly glad that Marty could at least remember that part. 'The police are questioning your family right now about what happened. The police didn't want to call an ambulance for you just yet; they wanted to wait and see if you were going to be fit for answering their questions first.' Doc frowned. 'I was overruled on that point. But it does seem like you're the only person who knows fully what went on here. Who tied up your uncle? How did this happen to you after you called me?'

Marty was blinking furiously, looking bewildered. Doc realised that his questions might be a bit too much for the teen at this point. 'I dunno what you're talking about, Doc. All I know is Joey made me steal the DeLorean – '

'_He_ made you do that?' Doc was astounded. Up until now, he had been putting that little matter aside in face of his concern for Marty, although of course it had never left the forefront of his mind. 'How did he know about the time machine?'

Marty grimaced. 'Long story, Doc. But…' He bit his lip and stared up unhappily at his friend. 'He was gonna shoot you, Doc. If I didn't steal it. He was gonna kill you. I'm sorry.'

Doc couldn't help but smile; yet more relief flooded through him like a warm ray of yellow sunshine. 'Sorry for what? Saving my life?'

'Yeah, well… Who knows what he might of done with a time machine?'

'Who knows, indeed…' Doc glanced over his shoulder at the McFly home; he could see the silhouettes of Lorraine and a police officer in the window. 'This issue is far from resolved, however. Was there another person involved?'

'What do you mean?' Marty said groggily. 'When we took the DeLorean, we came here and then Uncle Joey hit me over the head. That's all that happened.'

'When did you call me, then?'

'I never called you, Doc.'

'But then – '

Doc stopped speaking as a faint sound reverberated through the sky. His eyes widening, he wondered if he had imagined it – the sound of three sonic booms.

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The next night, at 9:53 pm, Marty had hidden the train and was now hurrying towards Doc's house. The night air was cool and crisp; the street was quiet, the only sounds being those of Marty's quick footsteps and the low hum of distant traffic.

Marty didn't want to think about what he had to do; then again, it might cost him dearly if he didn't work this out. Doc and Uncle Joey – and perhaps Jennifer – would be arriving in just over five minutes, and Marty would be waiting for them, ready to attack Joey. His heart beat rapidly at this thought. His uncle would be armed with a gun; Marty would be armed with whatever he could find in Doc's front room, perhaps a poker, as well as the sleep inducer – but Marty wasn't sure how effective it would be now, after he had used it five times. It looked like the poker was in.

And then there was the question of how hard to hit his uncle. What if he ended up killing him? There was one side of Marty that revelled in this idea, but he knew in his heart that he couldn't bring himself to kill another human being.

It was probably irrelevant, anyway; most likely he wouldn't be able to control how hard he hit Uncle Joey. All he could do was hope for the best.

_Concentrate on saving Doc and Jen, _he told himself. _That's the most important thing. Nothing else matters._

_Even if it's going to cost me my life._

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When he reached Doc's house, he was surprised to see that the lights in the front room were on, shining from behind the drawn curtains. He hesitated on the pavement. _I thought Clara and the boys left the house this afternoon? Why would she have left a light on?_

He gave his head a quick shake to rid himself of the nagging worries. _She probably just left the light on by accident, that's all. Quit stalling. Uncle Joey will be coming here soon!_

As he started up the path towards the front door, he was so preoccupied that he didn't notice the silver DeLorean already parked on the pavement opposite.

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Doc and Jennifer were sitting side by side on the sofa in the front room. Even though Joey was standing by the window, peering through the gap in the curtains, they didn't dare move an inch; his gun was loosely trained on them.

But as his attention was elsewhere, Doc reached out and gently patted Jennifer's hand. 'I'm sorry, Jennifer,' he said softly. 'I didn't mean any of this to happen.'

Jennifer managed a watery smile. 'It's not your fault. Was Marty supposed to be here before ten? It would have worked if Joey hadn't seen through it.'

'I should have known he would,' Doc muttered through clenched teeth, cursing his lack of foresight.

'Are – are we going to die, Doc?' Jennifer whispered.

Doc glanced away. He couldn't look her in the eye and tell her that it was most likely none of them would escape alive, although perhaps Jennifer had a slighter better chance. He couldn't say the same for himself or Marty.

Even as he thought that, Joey turned away from the curtains, grinning widely. 'Your friend's coming now. D'you think he'll be pleased to see us here early?' He pointed the gun towards the two of them. Doc felt Jennifer stiffen next to him. 'Quiet now. If I hear one noise out of either of you, I'll shoot. Got it?'

They nodded. Joey stood by the door, his face expressionless.

Silence fell over the house. Doc could hear his heart pounding in his ears, Jennifer's quick, sharp breathing, the clocks ticking…

Then the click of the front door opening…the squeak as it closed again…footsteps advancing quietly up the hallway…

And then Marty was at the door, his gaze first landing on Doc and Jennifer seated on the couch; his look of astonishment was quickly replaced by shocked fear as Joey's hand shot out and grabbed his collar.

'Glad you could make it, Marty,' Joey said pleasantly, while dragging him over to Doc and Jennifer. The teen stumbled helplessly after him. 'Surprised to see us so soon?' He jammed the muzzle of the gun into Marty's cheek.

At the look of pain on Marty's face, Jennifer cried sharply, 'Let go of him!'

'Keep your mouth shut,' Joey growled, his brows furrowing.

'Why is she still here?' Marty managed to say. 'Let her go!'

'No, I don't think I'll be doing that,' Joey said, jovial once more. 'You see, the part where you save your family's lives wasn't included in the bargain.'

Marty paled noticeably. 'OK,' he said. 'OK. Just – just let me go and we can work something out.'

Joey thrust him away, a look of disgust on his face, and Marty staggered backwards. 'There'll be no _working things out_,' he said in a low voice. 'You will tell me where the second time machine is and that's all there is to it.'

'And if I don't?' Marty challenged.

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Marty knew he had made a mistake as soon as the words left his mouth. He heard Doc groan, very softly.

Joey walked slowly towards him, a glint in his eye. Marty swallowed hard and straightened up, keeping his fists clenched by his sides.

'If you don't?' Joey breathed, bending down so that his face was in front of Marty's. 'Well then, I'll have no choice but to kill one of your friends.'

'Like you're not gonna kill us all anyway,' Marty spat. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Doc and Jennifer sitting very still, watching closely.

Joey smiled. 'Let me rephrase that part, then. If you do not tell me now, then you will have the pleasure of watching one of your friends slowly bleed to death from a bullet in the leg. We'll see after that if you feel more inclined – '

'_What the hell is that?' _Marty yelled, pointing over his uncle's shoulder.

It worked – as Joey's head whipped around, Marty's fist went flying into his jaw. The gun went off; a vase on the mantelpiece shattered into a thousand pieces. Marty punched Joey again; but as his uncle fell to the floor he grabbed the front of the teen's shirt, pulling him down. Marty landed heavily on top of his uncle. The gun went off again.

He heard Jennifer scream. 'Go Jennifer, get the police!' he managed to gasp, struggling to free himself of his uncle's grip. He saw her feet flash by his head, heard the door slam; and then suddenly his world was one of blinding pain – his uncle had hit his already bruised head with the gun again. He slid off his uncle to the floor, groaning. Joey scrambled to his feet, his eyes wild. Marty could do nothing but watch helplessly, waiting for the bullet that would end it all –

But Doc was there, throwing one, two, three punches at Joey's face; there was another deafening shot and there was an explosion of plaster on the wall. And yet Joey still did not go down; like a snake, his fist shot out at Doc and the scientist tripped backwards. The back of his head hit the wall.

Joey pointed the gun at him.

Marty watched.

Doc against the wall…

Joey with the gun…

_There was no escaping fate._

_There had been one other person killed in that hellish Halloween world._

_Why should it end with his family?_

_Whatever happens, happens._

_He had known that it was always going to be this way._

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As the pain shot through the back of his head head, Doc could do nothing but stare at Joey as he raised the gun.

A dreadful sort of icy calmness fell over him. _Well, I guess this is it. _

_I only wish I could see Clara and the boys, just one last time – _

At the exact same time that the gun went off, there was an inarticulate yell to the side – Marty was a blur as he threw himself in front of Doc – the bullet caught him in the chest and threw him backwards against the wall…the blood was spattered across the carpet –

Doc saw all of this in a split second but refused to register it, refused to let it sink in, even as he was lunging towards the stunned Joey, punching him in the mouth, kicking the gun away as it fell out of Joey's hand, punching him as he lay on the floor, punching him again and again until finally Marty's uncle was still.


	14. Chapter 14

**Well, this is the last chapter! Thanks for all the lovely reviews, they really encouraged me to keep going. I had fun writing this fic and I'm glad you all enjoyed it. I'd like to thank bttf4444, Flaming Trails and Anakin McFly for all giving me suggestions on how to get out of a sticky situation. It was Anakin's advice I went with in the end (as well as giving it a small twist) and I think it kind of covers any paradoxes. I hope it does, anyway. Enjoy the chapter :)**

**(Oh, and as to those who say Marty should kill Uncle Joey - are you nuts?! Marty would never kill anyone!)**

'Marty,' Doc breathed, dropping to his knees by the teenager's side. 'Oh no. Marty.'

Marty was stirring, moaning slightly. He seemed to be having trouble breathing. His clothes were soaked with red blood; Doc reached out and gently pulled at the ragged cloth around the place where the bullet had entered. Underneath was a dark bloody hole in Marty's chest.

'How's it looking, Doc?' Marty gasped.

'Well, you're going to die,' Doc said, and turned his head away so that Marty couldn't see the tears in his eyes. He couldn't bear to look at his young friend dying on the floor, couldn't bear to accept the reality of what was happening.

Afterwards, there would be fury. There would be shock. There would be raging grief that might end up completely destroying his life. Right now, these emotions were tugging at some unknown place at the edge of Doc's heart, but for the most part all he could feel was a dull numbness.

'Perfect,' Marty said hoarsely. 'Just perfect. At least you're telling it to me straight.'

Doc looked back at him. His face was whiter than he'd ever seen, and blood stained the corners of his mouth. He reached out and dabbed it away with his sleeve.

Marty's breathing was slowing, his eyelids were drooping, but he was staring unblinkingly at Doc. 'You don't have to cry, Doc,' he said quietly. 'It doesn't hurt.'

'Why'd you do it, Marty?' Doc whispered. 'I'm the one who should have been shot.'

'Yeah, like I was gonna let that happen,' Marty retorted, a little more strength creeping back into his voice. His head lolled sideways and his eyelids drifted shot. 'Always knew it would be me,' he murmured, his voice againfading. 'It was always gonna end like this…'

Doc made to get up. 'That's it, I'm calling for an ambulance – '

'No!' Marty's eyes snapped open again. 'Don't leave me, Doc. Please don't leave me.'

More tears trickled down Doc's cheeks as he settled himself beside his friend once more. 'You're the one leaving me, Marty.'

'Don't have a choice…'

'I'll bring you back, I swear. With the time machine.'

'You'll prob'ly screw things up again,' whispered Marty, his face now scrunched up in pain. He let out one long, low moan, then muttered, 'Don't go.'

'I'm not going anywhere.' Doc could now hear the far-off wail of sirens – Jennifer must have fetched the police – but he knew it would be too late for Marty no matter what. 'I'll stay with you for as long as it takes.'

'For as long as it takes for me to die, you mean.' Marty clenched his teeth. 'Oh God…' He let out a sharp cry.

Doc reached for his wrist and checked his pulse. It was slowing, weakening. Very soon Marty's life would fade away, his body an empty shell, and Doc would be left alone.

Alone…

Marty's eyes were closing again, and Doc knew that if there ever was a time to say all the things he needed to say to Marty, it was now. 'Marty, I – '

He paused and looked down.

Marty's hand was fading. It was becoming transparent, and when Doc tried to take it again, it simply slipped through his fingers. It wasn't just because Marty's hand was fading – Doc's hand was fading too. He held it up in front of his face and stared at it – _through _it.

'Great Scott,' he breathed. 'Marty, I think we're – '

There was no need for him to go on; Marty was dead. He was completely still; his eyes were closed, his face chalk white and relaxed into an expression of perfect peace. Doc blinked slowly at the sight. He had expected to feel some sort of emotion at this moment, but he felt nothing apart from some black shadow deep inside.

Now time was slowing, thickening like treacle. Doc no longer had control over his muscles or limbs; he flopped sideward to the floor, limp as a rag doll. His vision was blurring; he tried to call out but his mouth wouldn't move.

Everything was darkening…blackness creeping out over the room, reaching out its shadowy tendrils… Through the haze, Doc saw Marty's whole body slowly fading until it was barely there –

In the split second before Marty disappeared entirely, blackness smothered Doc and he knew that he, too, was erased from existence.

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Doc was in darkness for what seemed an eternity. Floating in nothingness, in the insubstantial space between dreams and reality. Not moving, not speaking, not thinking, not being.

But in the moment his eyes snapped open, that dark space seemed to have lasted a mere second. Blinking, feeling as though he had just awoken from a long, long sleep, his mouth dropped open as he took in his surroundings.

He was in his lab, standing at his workbench; the DeLorean sat in the middle of the room; it was dark outside, and the only light came from his small desk lamp before him.

'Great…Great Scott….'

'_Doc?' _a very familiar voice said.

He spun around. Marty was standing at the bench beside him, his brown hair tousled, his eyes wide with fear and confusion. 'Doc – how the hell did we get here? What happened? Uncle Joey…' He was pale, but there was no sign of the deathly whiteness that had been present only a moment before…or a lifetime ago? 'Doc, did I _die_? This isn't a dream, is it?'

Doc grabbed Marty's arm. It was as warm and solid as it ever had been. 'It seems real to me…' he said, dazed. 'But how in the name of Sir Isaac H. Newton did we get here?'

'Wait a sec.' Marty frowned and rubbed his forehead with his thumb. 'I remember now…I've been here since seven o'clock, helping you with that project – and uncle Joey's in jail…'

Doc drew in a deep breath as memories of the past twenty-four hours suddenly flooded into his mind. 'You're right!' he said, astounded. 'I've just been explaining to you about the eleven dimensions – '

'Boring me out of my mind,' Marty finished with a grin. 'Jesus Christ, this is weird…'

'It certainly is,' murmured Doc, his head suddenly pounding. 'I feel like I've been two people at once over the past day…I've got two sets of memories!'

'Get used to it,' Marty said. 'After coming back from 1955 and finding that everything had changed, I had memories of that life but I still remembered my old life as well. Man, this is confusing, though…I remember when Joey was found in my house, tied up and know one knows who did it – but I remember now! _I _was who tied him up like that! And he shot me, the bastard…' He frowned. '_Did _I die, Doc? I remember it hurting, and then something _ended_ somehow…' He thumped his chest absently, looking troubled. 'Then everything was dark for a while…and now I'm here.'

Doc paced up and down several times, trying to think. 'It would appear that you did die, if only very briefly – if I'm correct, almost at the exact same moment as we were erased from existence,' he said. 'The time ripple caught up with us, and since you had saved your family, the future we were in started to fade – and so did we…' A sudden thought struck him. 'What time is it?'

Marty checked his watch. 'Almost twenty past ten,' he replied.

'I thought so – it all makes sense, now.'

Marty eyed him doubtfully. '_Does _it?'

'Of course.' Doc tried to explain. 'We were erased from existence at about this time, and somehow our memories have been transferred to this alternate timeline – in which your family never died, your uncle never kidnapped Jennifer, and he never shot you. That's why we have two sets of memories – that of this timeline, but also of the one that doesn't exist anymore. Do you see?'

'Sorta…' Marty scratched his head, then smiled. 'But I sure feel great now! Being shot isn't the most fun…'

Doc swallowed at the memory of how he had seen his friend's life fade away in front of him. 'No, it's not,' he agreed. 'Although, imagine if you died a few minutes before you were erased from existence – that would have been quite an experience.'

Marty raised his eyebrows. 'Uh, yeah, but I'm kinda glad that _that_ didn't happen, y'know?'

Doc was about to say something more, when suddenly the lab door opened and Clara poked her head in, her dark curls falling over her shoulders. 'You've been out here for a long time, boys,' she said, smiling. 'Won't you come in for some tea now? And Emmett, it's very late for Marty to be helping you – he's still recovering, after all.'

For a moment, Doc and Marty stared at each other, perplexed. Then Doc remembered – from his _second_ set of memories – about how Clara had been concerned about Marty staying out here to help him with the project. 'Oh, of course,' he said quickly, inwardly marvelling at the strangeness of the feeling. 'The bump on your head, Marty…is it bothering you at all?'

'Oh – yeah, that.' Marty winked at Doc. 'Not as much as before.'

'Well, I'll make the two of you something to eat now,' Clara said. 'Come to the house in two minutes.'

'She doesn't know,' Marty remarked after she had retreated from the lab.

'Well, naturally.' Doc started to tidy up the scattered objects before him on the workbench. 'She had never travelled forward in time, like us, so – Great Scott!' he gasped for the third time that night.

'What? What is it?'

'Your uncle – and Jennifer! They had travelled forward in time as well! Therefore, their selves in this new timeline will remember what happened with Jennifer's kidnapping…'

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There was a sudden yell from a prison cell. The police officer on duty frowned and, laying down his newspaper and coffee, got up to see what the disturbance was.

Peering through a small window in the door of the cell, he saw the prisoner Joey Baines pacing around the confined space. 'What the hell am I doing in here?' he was roaring, pressing his hands to his head. 'What happened? Where am I? The McFly kid and the crazy old scientist…he punched me, must've put me in here, let me the hell out…wait a minute...I know how I got in here...that kid put me in here...but I shot him...'

Shaking his head, the officer returned to his desk. The McFly kid was obviously the youngest of the McFly family, who Joey had brutally attacked – but what did he mean by the crazy old scientist? The officer shrugged to himself as he picked up his mug again. What did it matter? From the way Mr Baines was acting, it was clear that he had some sort of mental problem. He was going to be in prison for a long, long time.

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When Clara left the kitchen, Marty quickly drained the rest of his tea and wiped his sleeve across his mouth. 'I should go, now,' he said. 'I gotta call Jennifer – if you're right about her having those other memories, then she's probably freaking out by now. And Uncle Joey will be, too…' He looked at Doc, chewing his lip. 'He's gonna be really mad now, right?'

'Don't worry,' Doc reassured him. 'Hopefully he'll receive a good long prison sentence and when he comes out he'll be somewhat reformed. And if not…' He shrugged. 'Well, we'll deal with that when the time comes. In the meantime, though, it's best not to dwell on it.

'Right,' Marty said, still looking a little nervous.

There was a silence between them for a moment. However, it wasn't the awkward silence that had hung between them recently; it was a comfortable, companionable silence.

'I'm glad you're OK, Marty,' Doc said quietly after a while.

'Yeah… And thanks, Doc.'

'For what?'

'I dunno.' Marty drummed his fingers on the table. 'I've just – I know I've been a bit weird lately. Sorry.'

'Since Halloween,' Doc said gently. 'Marty, I know you were affected by that incident. I saw that, but I didn't acknowledge it. I should have talked to you about it…so I…I guess I'm sorry too.'

Marty snorted. 'It wasn't _your_ fault. I mean, when you _did_ try to talk I was just an ass. Anyway,' he grinned, 'I think I'm OK now. I mean, seeing my family…' He swallowed, paling slightly, 'It's not easy to remember - you have no idea how awful it was, Doc, seeing them lying there - but seeing them…it's like I always knew it was going to happen.'

Doc understood at once. 'Because of what happened to your family in the Halloween world?'

The teen nodded. 'And then to me…it was like I was expecting to be killed like that.'

'And you therefore made a subconscious decision to actually get killed,' Doc said wryly. 'Humans have a way of twisting fate to match what they expect of fate.'

'Right.' Marty looked like he hadn't understood a word of what Doc had just said. 'I got lucky, though.' He ran a hand over his chest.

'We both did,' Doc replied. 'I can't…I can't imagine a world without you, Marty. And that's the truth.'

Marty looked at Doc, and the silent understanding passed between them.

As Marty rose, Doc got up as well. 'Hey, are you going to tell Clara about all this?' Marty asked.

Doc hesitated. 'I suppose I should…she'll know I'm hiding something from her and find out eventually.'

'Yeah.' Marty clasped Doc's arm briefly. 'I'll come over tomorrow, OK?'

'Right.' Doc watched as his friend headed towards the door. 'And Marty? If you're bothered by anything in the future, please _talk _to me about it. We don't want things to end up the way they were before.'

'Sure thing, Doc.'

The front door slammed and Doc went in search of his wife.


End file.
